Tamatsukuri-Onsen
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My favorite part of the entire trip was our two-night stay at a Kokuminshukusha or a "People's Lodge" in a small town outside of Matsue called Tamatsukuri.

For some reason the travel office in Kyoto did not offer reservations to any accommodations in Matsue itself, so they booked us into this government-sponsored "Japanese-style inn" called "Rei-Un-Sou".  At first they told the reservation agent that since we were Westerners and one of us was a child, they would not serve us food, but while we were making other reservations in the office in Kyoto they called the agent to tell her they would make special western-style meals for us because we were traveling without a car and there were no western-style restaurants within walking distance of the hotel.  The people at Rei-Un-Sou also wanted to know if I spoke any Japanese, and I told them that yes, I spoke a little.  

Because we had made train reservations only as far as Matsue, we expected that we would have to take a local train from there to Tamatsukuri.  Thus we to told the "People's Lodge" that we would arrive at around 5:00 PM, about an hour after arriving in Matsue.  As it turned out, when we were on the train to Matsue I soon began to realize that Tamatsukuri-Onsen was one of the stops being called out periodically as a destination.  I was very proud of myself for actually being able to recognize the name of the stop, and even more amazed when I actually asked the conductor "kono densha wa Tamatsukuri-Onsen ikimasu ka? Tamatsukuri-Onsen ikitai n desu."  ("does this train go to Tamatsukuri Springs? We want to go to Tamatsukuri Springs?") Of course because we had rail passes we could just remain on the train until we reached Tamatsukuri.

We arrived at the very small train station in Tamatsukuri and were relieved to find taxis available there.  We handed them our "Welcome Inn" reservation form for Rei-Un-Sou and got a taxi ride to the "People's Lodge" for something like $5-$10.

When we walked into the lobby there was an elderly man behind the front desk.  We were, I was aware, about 30 minutes early.  He seemed flustered when it became clear that I didn't speak much Japanese.  I think he actually said something to the effect that I was supposed to understand Japanese.  This was one of the very rare unfriendly encounters we had in Japan.  Finally a young woman arrived who may have spoken a little English, or at least it became clear to me that she was prepared to receive a couple of Gaijin Guests.  She produced the two page English-language information sheet with a map of the "lodge" )which you can see by clicking on the two small icons here).  

We followed the map and took our luggage to our room, number 208.  It was a very small room (I want to say 6 tatami but I am not sure), with a very small entrance, just enough room to remove our shoes, and a raised floor with a small low table and television set.  Unfortunately one the few photographs I took of the room itself is out of focus (though it's an interesting effect), as my camera auto-focused on the wall directly to the right of the lens.  In the back of the room was a closet with futons and blankets.  We also had a very small but delightful balcony with a magnificent view of Lake Shinji.  We spent an hour or so sitting on our balcony drinking beer (me) and writing in our travel journal (Tony).

I believe that first evening I talked myself into taking my first Japanese bath, having located it on the floor above us.  I even talked Tony into coming with me; we both dressed in the Yukata provided with the room, and stumbled upstairs in our slippers.  (Incidentally I'm pretty sure I put on the Yukata the wrong way; I read later that the way I put it on was the way they dress the dead.)  

When we got to the bath there was a group of about 6 old men just arriving, all very talkative amongst themselves but ignoring us.  Tony saw this and immediately went back to the room.  I tried to remember everything I had read (and I had read a lot) about how to take a Japanese bath.  The bath itself was a large rectangle of very hot water measuring about 3 by 4 meters and probably one meter deep.  It was in one corner of a room with a terrific view of Lake Shinji.  On the other two walls of the room there were cold water faucets, little stools, small plastic buckets, and liquid soap.  I had read enough to know I was supposed to soap and rinse thoroughly before getting in the bath, using the plastic bucket to pour water over my head.  Naturally I was quite self-concious about this, not from modesty but simply from not knowing what I was supposed to do, really.  I have a feeling I did it wrong, because as soon as I slipped into the hot water pool (more than just a tub), all but one of the men got out and proceeded to soap and bath themselves much more thoroughly than I had done, I thought perhaps to silently demonstrate the proper procedure, or perhaps from having been exposed to a filthy barbarian's presence in the bath.  In retrospect it was a lot of fun; I enjoyed a solitary bath the next night and was disappointed to see the pool was drained on the morning we checked out.

That evening we had the special western-style meal, prepared just for us, which consisted primarily of a fried steak.  Tony absolutely loved it.  I told them it was delicious "oishi desu" and this seemed to please them greatly.  One thing I found fascinating was the the men I had bathed with all appeared as a group for dinner wearing their Yukatas.  Later on the trip, in Hagi, I saw a man out for an evening stroll near his hotel wearing Yukata and slippers (I believe every hotel we stayed in had them available in the rooms).  As we left the restaurant I bowed slightly to the cook, and he gave us the deepest bow we received on our entire trip.

That night we slept well.  In the morning we went to breakfast.  The waitress explained (in Japanese) that she would bring us the "pan"; she was amused and a bit flustered that I didn't know what this was (I had completely forgotten the Japanese word for "bread" which probably comes from Portuguese).  I think she was probably somewhat mystified that the Gaijin didn't know the word for the special Gaijin food they had prepared for our breakfast, which turned out to be the most beautifully toasted white bread I have ever had, buttered, with a cherry on top.  The rest of our breakfast was the buffet that all guests received.

The reason we were in Tamatsukuri-Onsen was to visit Matsue.  We tried to take a bus from Rei-Un-Sou, but none ever came, and we began walking back towards the direction of the train station.  This was probably about a mile.  It soon became clear to me that I could not find the train station, so I stopped a garage and asked "densha no eki wa doko desu ka?" ("where is the train station?").  The woman in attendance at the gas station eventually drew a map for me on her hand showing me how to get there (I would never have found it otherwise).  It is worth repeating that for the 48 hours we stayed in Tamatsukuri-Onsen and visited Matsue we did not see a single other westerner.

On our last morning at ReiUnso we were a little late getting to breakfast.  While we were getting ready, the phone in our room rang.  I answered it, "Moshimoshi."  The man calling spoke to me in Japanese; I could only tell him "wakarimasen."  Finally he said, in English, "Morning Rice" and I understood that they were worried that we would miss breakfast.  I assured him that we were coming "hai hai ikimasu."  After breakfast one the maids saw us in the hallway and commented on how good my Japanese was.  I laughed, and told her, "anmari zyouzu zyaa nai yo" and then realized this was the perfect opportunity to use one of the Japanese sentences I had purposely retained for over 21 years: "nihongo hoodoo muzikasi kotoba wa nai yo." "There is no language as difficult as Japanese."

                          Click on the thumbnails to the left to see a scan of a pamphlet for "ReiUnSo" - I am providing these scans primarily for the benefit of fluent Japanese readers who might want more information.